Maladies of Magic
by Tiresia
Summary: When faced with the abuse at the Dursleys, Harry Potter and his magic found only a single solution. When faced with the abuse at the Dursleys, Albus Dumbledore finds the second biggest mistake of his life and moves to remedy it before the ruination he wrung years before continues to destroy the life of a young boy.


**Maladies of Magic**

Chapter One

_Matters of the heart are something even one such as I cannot claim to completely understand, as rather obscure form of internal magic, they are unpredictable and can preform such feats that magic would not in other circumstances. The fateful night on which Lily Potter sacrificed her life for her son's is something I have studied and pondered over many nights. _

_ Such matters of the heart can even inflict one such as myself and due to unforeseen events, I found myself checking in upon the young boy for the first time. That fateful day of midsummer nigh upon the child's tenth birthday is something that showed me one of the greatest mistakes I have ever made in my long life._

_ The heart of a child is ever more malleable by the world and this is what I discovered, a young Harry James Potter inside a cupboard hiding from an uncle who had recently beat him. My regret at such a discovery can only be compared to one terrible event in my past. It was, with a heavy heart, I took Harry James Potter to Hogwarts. Such a mistake and such a discovery led me to readdress many events of which I was certain._

_-Excerpt: The Memoirs of Albus P. W. B. Dumbledore_

Harry Potter stared silently at the ceiling of his small cupboard, counting the webs and specks of dirt on it as he waited to be let out, so as to resume his chores. They always seemed less agreeable if he didn't complete them and while he wasn't bothered, things were easier if they agreed with his work. The faster and more perfect he did, the more agreeable they seemed to become. Petunia had smiled enough with his work in the garden yesterday that she had give him an extra sausage at the breakfast this morn.

Which went well, clear until the point he had almost choked on some of his food as he ate. The noise had bothered them enough Vernon had swatted him quite hard on the back, a frown on his face as he did so, and then sent him into his cupboard. His back twinged as he rolled, but the young boy paid no attention to it, he was used to such things at this point. The red stain forming on the blanket was another story, he would have to hide it until it dried, so they believed it was brown.

Again, another such thing he was used to, and while sleeping without a blanket was cold, it was nothing compared to Dursleys when they were disagreed with whatever he had done. The monotonous days had already blended together well enough he was not certain if the day they had told he was born had even passed. It could have been last week, they had seemed to be less agreeable than usual.

The knock on his cupboard told him it was time to leave, and so Harry opened the door to find himself face to face with a man wearing what could have easily been light blue blankets and a hat similar to what he had once seen on TV. Tilting his head quizzically, he climbed out of the cupboard and made towards the kitchen, there were dishes to be done. Halfway down the hall, a shout echoed through the house. "BOY."

Harry immediately spun around and returned to the sitting room. "Yes Uncle Vernon?" he asked, standing at the entrance to the room as he was always told to do. The pudgy man, nearly purple for some reason, barked back in a louder tone than usual.

"Gather your things, you are leaving this house," Vernon practically hissed as he frowned at the man in the room. Harry stared curiously for a moment.

"Why?" he asked, before taking a step back as he realized his mistake. The other man in the room frowned at this as Vernon nearly lunged forward.

"DO AS YOU ARE TOLD, BOY!" And when Harry didn't move for a second, Vernon started towards him, only to stop as the other man flicked some sort of stick at him and Vernon's already purple face darkened.

"You will not touch him," the man said as he stared directly into Vernon's eyes. Harry raised an eyebrow at this, who wasn't his uncle going to touch? "Harry," the man said.

"Yes sir?" he answered in his best voice, although the man seemed to be… bothered? By it, his eye twitched.

"Do please gather your things and meet me at the door," the man answered softly. Harry immediately nodded as he was turning around he hard the man speak again to his uncle. "If I find out more than what I know has happened here, you may not find yourself living so comfortably."

Harry blinked as he opened his cupboard, now what could that have meant. Having wrapped everything up, including the two yellowing books he had managed to hide for quite some time, Harry met the man at the door with the small bundle in his arms. A well-worn brown blanket, a ragged pillow with a few feathers sticking out, and a small box were all the boy brought with him. The man stared for a moment, "Is that all?"

"Yes sir," Harry answered.

The man's face went weird again, he hadn't ever seen a frown like that. The man looked back into the house and then grabbed his hand. Harry felt some sort of twisting sensation and the food he had eaten that morning threatened its way up his throat. The young boy's face went pale he forced back down before gasping.

"My apologies, my boy. Apparition is never fun the first time nor especially at such long distances, nevertheless you will experience it in the future so hopefully you will be able to handle it better the more it is done," the man's eye twinkled, which Harry wasn't quite sure how he managed that.

"Sir?" the young boy asked.

"Ah, I should have known that they wouldn't have explained anything to you," the man practically spat, "You, my dear boy, are a wizard and this is the Isle of Jean-Baptiste. It is where a number of French Wizards live, hidden from those like your relatives," the man answered, "It is also where you will be living as it is the closest to the British Isles and happens to be where a few who knew your parents live."

"My parents died in a car crash," Harry said, looking around curiously at the strange houses and several considerably sizable mansions.

"I am afraid not and is because of such a thing I was forced to place you with Petunia, something I dearly regret," the man winced. "The house is merely a street away, and I believe we both need time to recover from our trip. You may also ask me any questions you have."

"Wizards, sir?" Harry stared at the elderly man.

"And witches, yes. We are people who are able to control a force known as magic, which can do a great many strange things you may believe impossible," the man answered, "I am the Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, for the school you will be attending, come the passing of your eleventh birthday."

"Oh," Harry went silent.

"Have you ever done anything strange, or impossible, my dear boy?" Albus inquired.

"I once grew my hair back and got on the school roof," Harry answered.

"That was your magic," Dumbledore explained as they walked, "At your age, it will react to your wishes."

"I see," Harry said. They passed the corner and the old wizard led him up the steps to a large mansion, simply waving the stick in his hand causing a ding to ring out a few times. The door opened only seconds later and a woman, barely shorter than the headmaster, answered. Bright blonde hair and vibrant blue eyes stared down at him as a smile lit up her face.

"You are sooner than we expected, Dumbledore," the woman said cheerfully.

"Indeed, it would seem I had underestimated what happened," he answered solemnly, "I must thank you for agreeing to take young Harry in but I'm afraid I have another matter that requires urgent attention."

"Of course, of course, there is no need for thanks, headmaster, we would have taken him in even were it not you who asked," she answered, her eyes darkening for a quick moment that Harry nearly missed. Dumbledore ushered him into the house and passed a small golden key to the woman.

"I have already informed Gringotts, and I am afraid that Harry made need quite a bit more than we expected," The woman accepted the key with a nod and looked at the small bundle in Harry's arms.

She frowned, "Indeed, the girls and I will take him shopping prochainement."

The man nodded and disappeared. "Ma'am," Harry asked, "Would you like me to start on my chores?"

Whatever reaction he had been expecting was certainly not that, the woman frowned, "Chores? Why ever would we need you to do chores?"

"That's what I'm supposed to do," he answered, not entirely sure why the woman would be so confused. He was supposed to do chores, that's what he was for.

"Merde!" The woman exclaimed, "Non non, there is no need."

Harry was most certainly unsure of how he was supposed to react to that.

_DMLE, London, England_

Amelia Bones, head of the only law enforcement existing in magical Britain was staring at the man before her, Champion of the Light, doer of no evils, and the man who no dark lord dared face. Yet, here this man was, quite adamant that he had been wrong. She couldn't remember the last time Dumbledore had admitted he was wrong, in fact he likely hadn't ever done so before.

"So you have cause to believe that Sirius Black was not the one who revealed the Potter Secret?" She asked again.

"I am quite certain," Dumbledore said, "It makes very little sense when we consider the man's personality."

"While I agree, he did still murder no less than thirteen muggles and one wizard," the woman shook her head. "That alone is not enough cause for me to investigate or do anything."

"Certainly, but I am also quite certain he was not responsible for those murders," Dumbledore answered, waving his hand dismissively.

"And who am I supposed to believe did, Peter Pettigrew?" She threw out sarcastically.

Dumbledore's infamous eye twinkle returned in full force, "Indeed, that is the only point that would be sensible."

"And how could a dead wizard have done this?" She retorted.

"Quite simply, by not being a dead wizard," Dumbledore removed from his cloak a small caged rat. As he did so, the creature seemed panicked. "I found him hiding with the Weasley clan, he had been their rat for nearly nine years."

Amelia raised an eyebrow, "And you are aware of what this would mean, are you not?"

"Quite," the man answered and flicked his wand at the cage. The rat cracked and bent at unnatural angles as it shed its fur and the tail began to disappear. Finally, rather squished now in the moderately larger cage, was a man who Madam Bones barely recognized. Immediately, she flicked her wand at the door and it opened as two Aurors made to enter.

The first stared at the caged man quizzically, "Take him down to holding," she said. He immediately nodded and the cage lifted off the ground. "As for you," she addressed the other, "Have Sirius Black removed from Azkaban for a pending review of his case."

The Auror nodded and departed as Amelia turned back to the elderly wizard. "You've presented me with a nightmare, Dumbledore, but if you are right then there may well be answers that we will need."

"I'm afraid so," the man seemed to visibly age as he answered, sinking into the chair as the woman removed a bottle of Firewhiskey from her desk.

"So, what is the story, Albus?"

"Most of it you know, but it starts just a few days ago…"


End file.
